


Every Breath We Drew

by sohappily (somuchitshurting)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bartender Louis, Childhood, Dreams, Famous Harry, Gardens & Gardening, M/M, Ordinary Louis, Poor Louis, Rich Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 21:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1915050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somuchitshurting/pseuds/sohappily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is alone; Louis needs a loan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Breath We Drew

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



 

“Did you see him? That kid – he keeps smiling and nodding his head at nothing. Look, there, you can’t miss him. Don’t point!”

“What a strange little lad. Where’re his mum and dad? Should we go get somebody?”

“No, no, it’s best to just leave the little boy in peace. I’m sure someone will come for him soon.”

The decadently dressed couple continued their incessant murmuring behind Louis, who tried his hardest to tune out the two. They were in line waiting for the trams to take them up to see Stonehenge due to his mother insisting that his family had some sort of bonding time while they were still young and carefree. Quite honestly he could care less about some dodgy old rocks placed in the middle of a field in a strange fashion; he only came to please his mother. However, he was getting bored in line so he craned his neck around the large man in front of him to see who the couple was talking about.

He certainly was strange.

He must have been off in his own world – his curly hair was pulled up into a ponytail of sorts, and he was wearing a rather gaudy dark blue shirt tucked into his corduroy trousers. He was looking up to the sky while grinning and tapping his toes. His puffy pink lips were pursed together and the corners of his mouth curled into a smile as if he was humming a special tune. There seemed to be no kind of parental guardian around him, yet he seemed perfectly content waiting for the trams all by himself. Everyone noticed him, but nobody took charge.

The line surged forward, and people began boarding the trams. The strange boy was herded into a different cart, and Louis was packed in with a rather smelly group. Somehow the stench of rotten cheese and onions did not make the trip very appealing. As they traveled up the hill, his sisters kept peeking out the window whispering things like, “You think we’ll see some fairies?” or “Look at the sheep, Mum, they’re so adorable!”

When they got to the top, the crowd surged forward for a breath of fresh air, and Louis was hit instantly with the intensity of Stonehenge. Or rather, the lack of.

It was quite small despite the things he’d heard about it. In fact, he only had to walk a few paces to get around the entire thing. He glanced at it, sniffed with an upturned nose, and took a picture or two on his camera, then immediately searched for his mother to ask the question, “Can we go back now?” And of course, his mum was getting lost in the pack of people while desperately trying to keep a grip on his sisters’ hands in order to circle the disappointing monument, so Louis spotted out a perfect place to perch on the railings.

Pushy tourists passed by with chunky cameras and lopsided grins; Americans sporting too many interpretations of the Union Jack, native Englishmen crying at their proud history, a few Germans complaining loudly that they wished they had gone to France instead (and the native Englishmen crying for entirely different reasons afterwards). People fascinated Louis. He loved watching them and their complete and utter stupidity. Humanity at its finest.

“I love looking at Stonehenge; it reminds me of some ancient stony flower garden.”

Louis snapped his head to the left to see the eccentric lad that the rude couple was talking about earlier.

He had both his elbows resting on a post and his chin sitting comfortably on top of his fists. He was sporting a rather dreamy look at the slabs of stone, and his lips crinkled into a soft grin. “Well?” he whispered. “What do you think?”

Louis was stunned. Not by the boy’s quirky personality, but that he chose to walk up to him and start talking. Louis had a, what did his teachers call it, an “off-putting” demeanor.

“Eh, it’s alright. I mean, it’s just a pile of rocks.”

The boy looked absolutely horrified. “Just a pile of rocks? No! In there lies the secrets behind many civilizations, alien species we’ve never heard about before. Can you imagine it? People from another world came and placed these rocks to tell us about their history. Maybe a war lies within those rocks, or a hymn they sing that’s just waiting to be uncovered. We just don’t have the tools to decipher it yet.”

Man, this kid was weird. “Are you here all by yourself, mate?”

“Huh? No, my mum and sis are here.” He looked around. “Somewhere.” Then he shrugged. “Not like it matters, I embarrass them in public. I love them to death and vice versa, but they never like to stay nearby.”

Louis frowned. “Hey, pick yourself up, lad!” He patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve got some great qualities about yourself, I’m sure. I can already tell that you’ve got a great imagination.”

The boy flashed him a sweet smile. “You think so? My mum says I have so much of it to a fault. She tells me that I can put it to good use in the future.”

“I have no doubt about that in my mind.”

The boy looked back out at the rocks and sighed contently. “Y’know, one day I want to write my own songs and sing them and make thousands of people happy. I want to become a millionaire and buy a mansion and fill it with all the people I love. I think that would be a good way to use my creativity.”

Louis blinked. Just what was he supposed to say to that? “Er, that sounds like a fantastic idea. I think you’d be really great at that.”

“You think so?” The boy grinned even wider. “What are your hopes and dreams?”

Now Louis _really_ didn't know what to say. “Um, live somewhere nice. Preferably by myself. With, uh, lots of money.”

He barely dodged a swift slap to his head. “What a shoddy dream! That doesn't help anyone. Think harder!”

“Okay, okay! How about married? And I have two kids? Or maybe three if I’m lucky?”

The boy mulled it over before giving it a slight approving nod. “That’s a good start and you’ve obviously helped a few people, but you’ve got to think globally! What are your talents?”

“My talents?”

“Yes, your talents!” The boy looked down at the ground and sheepishly started grinding his foot into a pebble. “I-I already got that you’re pretty confident and outspoken,” he said, then raised his chin to meet Louis’ eyes, “but I know you can do much more than just that!”

Louis sighed and thought about it for a while. A good minute probably passed, but the boy was very patient. “Well, I play piano, I suppose.”

“Yeah?” The boy’s eyes shined bright.

“And sometimes I like to sing. I’m decent enough.”

All enthusiasm that the boy was holding back pushed through the flood gates and inundated Louis in a strong and passionate hug. “That’s so wonderful!” the boy cried while jumping up and down in the close embrace. “You like to sing too! Let’s record a song together and become famous and help millions of people!”

Louis almost burst out in pitiful chuckles at the boy’s naiveté. “You can’t _actually_ be serious,” he retorted. “For one thing, I’m not good enough, and another, that’s impossible.”

The boy let go of him and frowned. “Why, you can’t get anywhere with that kind of attitude. You have to think positive!”

“Yeah, I am. That’s my most positive thinking.”

The boy reached out a hand and grasped Louis’ firmly. He looked earnestly into his eyes and said, “I promise to you, one day we will see our dreams come true. You’ll get that married life with two or three kids and play piano and sing, and I’ll make tons of people happy. I promise.”

His words gave Louis a strange, bubbly sensation as if he had drunk a warm glass of hot cider, and it flowed to every part of his body. “I’d like that,” he whispered.

A sudden wave of people passed by them, and Louis noticed his mother off in the corner frantically trying to wave him over so they could catch the trams that were about to leave.

“I have to go,” Louis said, pointing a shaky thumb at his mum. “It truly was wonderful talking with you.”

“But wait!” the boy cried out. “I haven’t even gotten your name yet!”

“Uh, it’s…” More rude tourists started off towards the trams, barging through the two’s conversation. “Louis. Louis Tomlinson.”

“What? I couldn’t hear you!”

“ _Louis Tomlinson_!”

“Oh, _Louis_. I see. That’s a great name!” A certain couple’s rush to the trams nearly knocked the poor boy over, and Louis attempted to catch him, but even more people passed through.

“You alright?” he called out.

“What?”

“I have to leave!” Louis said in a panic. “Please, tell me your name!”

“My name’s…” There were too many people all yelling things with too much investment in their own loud ramblings.

“Wait, I didn’t catch that!”

A firm hand clapped Louis on the back, and he turned around to see his mother’s stern face. “Louis, we have to go or we aren’t going to make it back home in time.”

“But Mum, I just need one thing…”

He turned his head to see through the passing blur of an impatient crowd the friendly wave of the boy and a huge smile. As he was being dragged off, he waved as violently as he could. Hopefully, _hopefully_ , the boy saw. 

 

* * *

 

He lived in London; that much he could be proud about. Perhaps working in the dirtiest pub around as a bartender was not the most glamorous occupation, but it paid the bills. Sort of.

The Emerald Leaf was home to London’s finest assortment of broken stools, strange aromas, and unfortunate people. Louis happened to fit into that last category. He didn’t have enough time on his hands to relay the vast misfortunes he had encountered, but rest assured, there were a lot of them. He moved away from his home in Doncaster when he was only eighteen after a certain fight with other members of his family, and he’d been on his own ever since. He kept a few close ties with people back home – Stan, his sisters, his mum – but everyone else had all been forgotten.  He didn't care though. The main reason he came to London was to meet people. Very  _interesting_ people.

Every day at around three, a bubbly blonde Irishman came in for a pint and stayed for hours to chat with Louis about various aspects of his day. He was the one spark of life in an otherwise drab society and was the only reason Louis kept his sanity.

As Louis was polishing off a few glasses, the door clinked open at three, and as usual, Niall bounced in.

“Tommo!” he cried with a huge lopsided grin. “How’ve you been?” He clambered onto his usual stool located directly in front of Louis and propped his elbows up on the bar. “The usual, mate.”

“It’s always nice to see you, Niall,” Louis said, reaching out to grab one of the larger glasses. “It’s been a decent enough day. A lady dropped her earring in her mash, and I’ve cleaned up two beer spills. Eventful, to say the least.”

Niall let out a huge guffaw, something he was very good at. “You kill my sides!” he laughed. “Honestly, though, it’s been a rough day for me. Me girl’s been yelling at me nonstop for trivial things, and I can’t make her stop!” He raised the glass that Louis had put in front of him and took a deep gulp. “Ah well, ‘tis life, I suppose! I got meself a girl, and that’s all you really need.” He gave Louis a smirk and added, “Unless you’re you, in which case a man’s all you really need.”

Louis rolled his eyes and said, “Thanks mate, what a wonderful contribution to our conversation.”

“It’s my absolute pleasure.” He took another big swig and clanked the glass down with a content sigh. “It’s dead quiet in here,” Niall stated. “Why don’t you turn on some music or something?”

Louis sauntered over to the pub’s ancient radio and started fumbling with the dials. “What are you in the mood for? Just tell me when you hear something you like.”

He clicked through various stations ranging from talk shows to an apparent two hour marathon of solid accordion and clarinet duets before Niall screeched out, “Hold it! Wait! Listen to that!”

Louis released his hands as if he had touched hot coals, and Niall jumped off of his stool. “That’s him!”

“That’s who?” A beautiful, slow melody was playing along with a man singing passionately. He had a great voice; it was sort of like a warm caramel hug, if voices could be described that way.

“Me girl’s brother! He’s actually a really famous singer, you know, but this is the first time I’ve heard him on the radio!” Niall’s face practically exploded in happiness. “Wow, I’ve got to call Gemma immediately. This is so exciting!”

“This is really grand, Niall,” Louis said with a smile. “What’s his name?”

“Harry Styles. _Real_ cool name; I’ve often told Gems their names’re like out of a spy movie or something.” He put up a hand to Louis and said, “Hold on, I think she’s about to answer my phone call… Gemma? Wey hey! You’ll never guess what I just heard…”

Niall piddled off to a corner to animatedly enthuse over his girlfriend’s brother so Louis decided to give himself a small break and really listen to the song. It seemed to be just a cover of the song “Hallelujah,” but it was sung with such strong emotion that it sent shivers down Louis’ spine. No wonder he made it to the radio. His voice was so tender and passionate… The hallelujahs drawn from his breath were truly astounding.

That’s when Louis got a phone call of his own. “Hello?”

“Mr. Tomlinson?” a man’s crisp tone replied.

“Yes, this is him.”

“Do you have a moment? I come bearing some news for you."

Louis gulped. "Er, what kind of news?"

"I regret to inform you that as of late, you have been unable to pay off your last three rents. Should you not terminate your debts by the end of the month, we will be forced to evict you from your flat.”

“What?" Louis was astounded. "That cannot be true. I-I’ve had enough money deposited in my account for easy transactions for a long time now…”

“If you would like to check by all means be my guest, but I assure you that you will not find your rent payments.”

“No! I’ve made sure!” Louis felt himself faltering. “I know I have my rent money!”

“If acquiring your payments is too difficult, we provide a lovely relocation service for less expensive flats.”

“No, I-I can pay it… By the end of the month you say?”

“That is correct. We will need four payments, to be exact.”

Louis’ heart broke. “I can do that.”

“Excellent. I hope to see your rent in two weeks.” The phone clicked off.

Immediately Louis began racking his brain for past expenditures. He _did_ buy a lot of groceries. And he had to pay to repair some of the more broken aspects of the pub, like the stove and the hideous paint. And he donated some money to his mother so she could take a well-deserved trip to Germany. Not to mention the time he paid for his friend Liam’s car repairs for “accidentally” driving into a post the one time he was allowed behind the wheel.

Okay, so maybe he was dirt poor. How was he going to get the money then? Even if he worked day to night for the rest of the month, he still wouldn’t get enough to pay for four whole months of rent. He slumped down to his knees and banged his head on the counter.

“Oi, mate!” Niall had apparently finished his phone call and was now leaning over the side to gaze at Louis’ lifeless body. “What’s the matter?”

“My flat,” Louis moaned. “My beautiful, precious flat. I’m going to lose her. I can’t pay off my rent.”

“You don’t have enough money?”

“I guess I’ve squandered it all away.”

Niall’s mouth dropped. “That can’t be true! You may be a bit reckless, but you’re always really careful about these things. What happened?”

“I-I don’t know…”

They were quiet for a minute, and Niall let loose a long sigh. Finally he said, “You think about taking out a loan?”

“I really hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that.”

“I can lend you a little bit, if you’d like.”

“No, I couldn’t! I-I... No, it’s fine. I can find something to do. I just need… time.”

Niall reached out a hand and patted Louis’ head. “God as me witness, I will help you out of this predicament.”

Sometimes people can be truly blessed. “Thank you so much,” Louis said. And he meant it.

The next day, Louis was riddled with the overwhelming pain of debt hung closely over his head. There was no escaping the awful feeling. He tried to set his mind aside and focus more on pouring drinks and entertaining patrons, but every pound he touched reminded him of the crippling despair of his situation.

Thankfully, three came pretty quickly, and Niall rushed into the pub shouting excitingly, “Louis! Louis, I’ve saved you! You’ll never believe what I got for you!”

“Niall, we’ve got other customers you know!”

“Ah, screw them and listen to me!” Niall pulled up a stool and scooted close to Louis. “So I may or may not have told Gems about your little problem…”

“Niall!”

“Yeah, sorry. But! I just so happened to mention that you were a bartender at the Emerald Leaf, and guess what. You’ll never guess it! Go ahead, guess.”

“If I’m not going to guess it then why do you want me to guess?”

“I just want you to be really surprised when I tell you what I got for you!”

Louis mulled it over. “Hmm, Gemma’s going to give me a thousand pounds?”

“Well, no…”

“A hundred thousand?”

“No, that’s not…”

“A _million_?”

“Louis, stop, you’re making my news start to look bad!” Niall coughed. “You remember yesterday me telling you about her famous singer brother? Apparently he owns this _huge_ mansion and what not and he loves to throw parties. But he’s in need of a bartender and, well, I think you know where this is going.”

Louis nearly shattered the glass he was cleaning. “ _What_? Did you just get me a job serving drinks for a bunch of rich and famous people?”

“Right I did indeed!” Niall beamed. “You can thank me later. I just expect free drinks for a year.”

“Niall, this is… This is great!” Louis was ready to topple over in a pool of tears, but instead he attacked Niall in a fierce bear hug. Maybe things _were_ starting to look up for him.

 

* * *

 

Any confidence Louis had going in was completely shattered at the sheer grandeur of the mansion. It loomed over an entire estate of thick shrubbery and paved walkways with a beautiful horizon surrounding every aspect of the enormous building. Quite impressive for someone who just rose to fame. Louis suddenly realized the price of the jean jacket he was wearing.

“So, uh, I guess I’ll pick you up after this party is done or something?” Liam Payne, whose car was previously totaled, was gracious enough to drop off Louis at this gigantic mansion. He laughed. “You’re damn lucky you have a drunken Irishman enter your pub every day, you know that?” Before Louis could make any retort back, Liam had already backed up and started to drive off.

And he sighed. “This is terrifying,” he murmured, looking back at the mansion. He hoped he would make a good enough impression. Well, no time like the present to find out.

Louis hobbled over to the massive front door and rang the bell, which let out an echoing four tone sequence. A minute passed, and Louis was slightly surprised. Weren’t huge mansions like this supposed to be filled with servants or something?

To his shock, he wasn’t greeted by someone opening the door but rather a gardener coming around from the side. “You Louis Tomlinson?” Sounded like a thick Bradford accent to him.

“Yeah, I am. I’m here to serve drinks for a party?”

“So I’ve heard.” The man gave him a warm smile and shook Louis’ hand. “Name’s Zayn Malik. I tend the plants around here. It’s nice to meet you.” He pointed to a window way up at the top of the mansion in the corner. “You’ll have to excuse Master Styles for not answering the door. This is currently his Pre-Party Meditation hour.”

“I… see.”

Zayn unlocked the door and showed Louis the way in. “It’s no use to keep you outside; come in. Take off your shoes, kick up your feet. Party doesn’t start for a while, and even then people don’t show up until thirty minutes after.”

The outside of the mansion was nothing compared to the inside. A gigantic ballroom-esque floor spread out in all directions at the front and was layered with beautiful and reflective marble. A grand staircase protruded from the top in stunning marble and swirled down in intricate patterns. Bookshelves lined every inch of the walls, and huge leafy palms decorated every nook and cranny. Off to the side sat a great ivory piano looking over the hills. Louis didn’t get a chance to fully look at everything before Zayn lead him over to a sitting area.

“You can relax here for a bit if you’d like.” He pointed towards what must have been the kitchen. “Bar counter’s over there. That’s where you’ll obviously be spending most of your day. No one is particularly picky about what they drink, just as long as they have some alcohol in their system. And from what I’ve heard from my good mate Niall, you mix some pretty good drinks.”

“You know Niall?” Louis gasped.

“’Course I do. Lad’s been my best mate for years now. We go way back, along with Master Styles and me.”

“Speaking of him, do I actually get to meet, uh, Master Styles before the party begins?”

Zayn shrugged. “He’s an enigma, that one. You may meet him before; you may not meet him ever.” He tipped his hat to the side. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go back to my plants. There are bushes that require some trimming.”

As Zayn walked away, Louis realized just how quiet and lonely the mansion was. His footsteps echoed throughout the halls, and Louis felt very alone. He glanced at the counter. Might as well taste test what he was working with. He pulled out a few shot glasses and found a few bottles of incredibly expensive wines. Now, in what other situation would he be allowed to try some of these names? No one was really going to miss a couple of drops…

A colossal _crash_ frightened Louis into nearly smashing the bottle of wine. _Nearly_. He rushed to the kitchen to investigate the noise only to see a man with thick curly hair surrounded by the remains of what must have been a fairly ornate vase. The man flipped around, and seeing Louis’ gaping expression, muttered a soft, “Oops.”

Louis let out a small chuckle. “Hi,” he said, extending an arm. “I take it you must be Mr. Styles?”

The man stared at Louis and his outstretched hand for a second before collapsing into a hard laugh. “My God, how you should meet me like this! I must say, this is not one of my finer moments in life. I’m clumsy, but I’m generally not _this_ clumsy.” He returned Louis’ hand shake with a firm grasp.

Louis gulped. The man was, to say the least, stunningly pretty.

“You’d be correct in assuming that I was Mr. Styles, but please, call me anything but that. Don’t pull a Zayn or anything. Harry will do just fine.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry, I’m a big fan of your ‘Hallelujah’ cover. My name’s…”

“Louis Tomlinson, yes, I know.” He could have sworn he saw a glint flash in Harry’s eyes. “Niall highly recommended you as a bartender. I’m looking forward to a nice drink.” He chuckled slightly and added, “Y’know, I usually don’t exit my room when a party is about to begin, but I heard the doorbell and realized that such an esteemed guest as yourself had arrived.”

Louis turned a tinge of light pink. “Oh, honestly, I’m nothing to sneeze at. I’m just a lowly bartender.”

“Nonsense!” Harry barked. “There are many great qualities about you!”

“No offense, Harry, but you’ve only just met me.”

“…Ah, have I? I am mistaken. Perhaps, then, it is only my intuition speaking. Although, I am sure that you don’t give yourself enough credit for things you’ve done in the past.” Harry brushed off his remark with a limp wave. “But look at this, you’ve caught me rambling. The party begins soon, and I must leave you to acquaint yourself to my home. We shall talk more afterwards, yes?”

Before Louis could respond, Harry had already walked out of the kitchen. He stopped dead in his tracks, however, and said to Louis, “I hate to be a burden, but do you mind cleaning up my vase? I would do it myself, but I am in urgent need to complete my ritual. I’ll just pay you more for this.” And then he was gone.

Louis looked at the mess. “What an eccentric man,” he told no one in particular. But a very, _very_ handsome one at that.

When the party finally began and guests actually arrived, Louis found himself quite occupied with serving various fancy drink requests. He was surprised by the amount of celebrities that were there; Harry must have been more famous than he realized. He was also surprised by the amount of gossip he overheard.

“Harry throws all of these extravagant parties, but does he understand how much money he’s wasting by doing this? His fifteen minutes of fame are going to be consumed by paying for this mansion and its staff.”

“You’re wrong there, though! I heard he’s only employed one other person, and he doesn’t even give him pay.”

“You’re joking. You can’t run a mansion like this with only two people. What about that bartender over there?” (Louis tried not to stare.)

“Maybe he’s just for the night? He’s a nice addition to these parties though. I’d been so parched at the last two.”

“It must be dreadfully lonely living in this mansion by yourself. Doesn’t he have any family?”

“I think so, but I heard they all loathe him for unknown reasons. I heard he was hated as a child.”

“Still is, I bet!”

“Has anyone actually seen Harry Styles at one of his own parties? I heard that he just locks himself up in his room the entire time.”

“Then why throw parties?”

“What a strange guy. He makes absolutely fabulous music, though.”

"Please, I just come here for his parties. I hardly care about the man himself."

The rumors continued throughout the night, but Louis tuned them out in order to focus more on his work. After all, if he did a good enough job, he’d get a large part of his rent funds.

When the last guests finally had left, it was well into the early hours of the next day. Louis sat down on the floor pooped and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Mind serving one last drink?” To his surprise, Harry had finally walked over to Louis’ corner. He had changed from when they met earlier to a snazzy black ensemble, and he pulled up a stool to sit in front of Louis’ station.

“I haven’t seen you all night,” Louis commented.

“I know. That’s because I didn’t attend my party.”

Louis laughed. “You know, I overheard someone talking about that earlier. Why do you do this if you don’t even go to them?”

Harry shrugged. “Not my cup of tea, I suppose. But they sure do make people happy.”

“You’re a strange man, Harry Styles,” Louis chuckled. “But you know what you’re doing, and I like that.” He handed him a drink, and Harry took a small sip.

“I haven’t been famous for very long,” he said idly. “I’ve only just released my debut album, but it’s sold really well. And I heard that my ‘Hallelujah’ cover is really popular on the radio. All these things are happening really fast, but…”

“But what?”

Harry sighed. “A long time ago, I made a promise to someone who would change my life forever, and I’ve tried so hard to keep that promise. I know I’m so close, and I know that I’m accomplishing what I wanted to do, but somehow it doesn’t feel right.”

“If it doesn’t feel right, then you aren’t really accomplishing what you wanted to do,” Louis pointed out. This was a strange feeling, as if he was some sort of Celebrity Whisperer.

“I guess you’re right. Maybe I was so focused on the guidelines to create that perfect dream that I forgot important things along the way.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what was your perfect dream?”

Harry smiled. “To become famous by singing songs and become a millionaire and buy a mansion to have a place for everyone I love.”

It sounded so familiar. Where had he heard it before? “I think that’s what you haven’t done yet,” Louis said. “These fake people at your parties aren’t really people you love, just people who love what you are. They take advantage of you and your generosity, and that’s why you don’t come down to mingle.”

Harry didn’t speak for a while, but he looked up at Louis with a pensive yet warm look on his face. “You really have always been there to support me, haven’t you?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch what you said.”

“Oh, just that I never realized that probably _is_ what I’m missing out on. I need to find someone I love.” Louis’ heart almost skipped a beat.

“You’ll find her one day, I promise.”

“Him, actually.”

Louis’ heart really did skip a beat that time. “Well. You’ll find him, then.”

Harry must have won an award in the past for most heartwarming smile. “Thank you. I really appreciate this. Please, you must come back tomorrow. I’d love to just sit down and have a chat with you.”

“Honestly, I would love to, but I’m in a sort of financial predicament right now, and I have to get back to my regular job.”

“I’ll hire you as my full-time bartender. How about that?”

Louis blinked once, twice, and a third time to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Are you serious? You would do that?”

Harry held up his glass. “You serve up a pretty ace beer, Lou. So, are you up for it?”

He didn’t hesitate for a second. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”

 

* * *

 

The transition from working at the Emerald Leaf to the Styles Mansion was a remarkably smooth one, despite the utter cries of despair from Niall when he heard that Louis would be leaving permanently.

“Who will serve me piss-poor beer now?” he had moaned.

Thankfully Harry was nice enough to pay for a taxi to send Louis to his mansion so he didn’t have to basically usurp poor Liam’s car. It was not a fun time when Louis had called Liam that early in the morning after the party had ended to come pick him up.

Harry threw interesting gatherings varying from a dinner of two to book clubs to more gigantic parties, all which apparently required Louis’ expert drink services. He didn’t want to say anything, but he was under the impression that Harry was only planning these events to give Louis a job. But he didn’t really blame the lad; it must be awful lonely to live in this huge mansion with only a gardener for company. He hadn’t even seen any pets around.

The best part of the job by far was the conversations Louis and Harry had in between Louis’ work. Harry was, quite frankly, weird. And he was _so_ interesting.

“Do you like my foxgloves?” Harry had asked him one day when he noticed Louis looking out the window at his garden. “They say foxes come in the middle of the night and hide in them to catch their prey. It’s true! I’ve seen it with my own eyes!”

He had this strange enigmatic way of commenting on life’s frivolities with the utmost eccentricity. The more Harry talked, the more Louis found himself listening.

“My ivory piano is made out of fake elephant tusks. But don’t worry, the fake elephants were sent to prison for mass murder, so it’s alright if we take their tusks.”

And when Harry talked about music, there was nothing but pure passion and joy in his body. “I love the way it makes me feel,” he said dreamily. “It takes me on a journey to places I’ve never been before, and it helps me understand things that I could only dream about. That’s why I love singing, you know. I tend to lose myself in the music.”

Louis found himself wanting nothing more but to please Harry. After one of Harry’s gatherings had ended, Louis sat down in front of that ivory piano and played Harry a song in hopes that he would find it enjoyable.

“You’re really good at piano,” Harry said, leaning back into his comfy lounge chair.

“Eh. I’m decent.”

“And you sing, right?”

“Eh. I’m decent.”

Harry hummed a bit to himself. “That’s right, I wanted us to record a song together…”

“What did you say? I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear over the piano.”

“What? Oh, no, I was just saying that I’m sure you’re a lovely singer. D’you think I could hear you one day?”

Louis stopped playing and frowned a little. “I’m honestly not that good. I love it, but I couldn’t compare to your great voice.”

“If you love it, then don’t be ashamed of it!”

Louis gave a small chuckle and said, “You’re so relaxed I forget that you’re a celebrity sometimes, but I do remember that you are a brilliant singer, so I won’t kill your ears with my tone-deafness.”

Harry crossed his arms and pouted. “You can’t just do this to me! Now you’ve got me all curious, and I’m going to have to go days without knowing what the fabulous Tommo’s singing voice sounds like.”

“Oh, shut it, Haz!” Louis laughed. “Maybe I’ll sing for you later, but not now. I have too much on my mind.”

“Really? Go on, tell me."

Louis paused. He had not planned on telling Harry about his debt. “Oh, it’s just that financial problem I told you about earlier. Really, it’s no bother.”

“Do I need to pay you more? It’s not a big deal to me.”

“What? N-no, that’s not necessary… Well, it would be nice, but I couldn’t… What I’m getting now should be fine by the end of the month, I think…”

“Do you have something you need to pay for? I can just give you the money for it.”

Louis practically had a heart attack. “You can’t be serious. That’s so much money, I-I wouldn’t feel right about it.”

“Is it some sort of debt you need repaid?”

“Well, yeah, it’s my flat rent.”

Harry scoffed. “Oh, that’s easy. I’ll pay for it, don’t worry.”

“Y-you have to be joking.” Louis looked into Harry’s eyes. He wasn’t joking.

“Louis, you have no idea what you’ve done for me. This is the least I can do for you.”

Louis climbed off of the piano bench and started shaking his head. “I’ve known you barely for a week, I don’t mean that much to you.”

He looked back at Harry, who had suddenly transformed his pleasant disposition. He was plastered in the saddest puppy-dog face and his eyes were a stormy, melancholy green. "Are you serious?" he murmured.

"Er, what do you mean?"

“You still don’t remember me? Even after all this time?”

Louis stared into his eyes and whispered, “Am I supposed to?”

They were silent for a while, and the look Harry was giving to him was slowly eating away at Louis’ insides. At last Harry said, “Let’s go for a walk. Do you mind?”

He led them outside his mansion, and they started to walk along a nicely paved path. “It’s really nice outside,” Louis said, hoping to brighten Harry’s spirits. It didn’t work.

They walked for some time in mutual quietness, and Louis glanced occasionally from the sky to Harry and back. Every time he looked at Harry the guy had his eyes glued on his feet with his hands behind his back. Did he say something wrong? Louis tried to rack his brain for a previous meeting with him, because he certainly would have remembered this wonderful man. Maybe Niall brought him to the pub when he took Gemma out on a date. But why would Harry be there with him?

Eventually Harry paused underneath a wooden canopy covered in vines and colorful flowers. It was beautiful. Just like someone else. “Mind if we stop here for a bit?” he asked Louis.

“O-of course.”

Louis stood awkwardly alone while Harry looked past the canopy at the huge carpet of flowers in front of him. “I love gardens,” he mentioned. “They remind me of happy things and happy times.” He smiled a hollow smirk. “It’s funny, though, my favorite garden doesn’t even have flowers in it.”

“A garden without flowers? How is that possible?”

“When the flowers are made of stone.”

And then suddenly, _suddenly_ , it all clicked.

“You!” Louis gasped. “You’re the boy from Stonehenge! The boy with a dream!”

All sadness that once was in Harry’s body was completely eradicated and replaced instead by an indescribable joy.

“You remember! You actually remember me!”

“It took a bit of prodding, but of course I do! How could I forget someone like you?”

Harry was so overwhelmed that he almost collapsed into a puddle had Louis not reached out and caught him in a tight embrace.

“We hugged then, too, didn’t we, Haz?” he whispered into his ear.

“Yeah, we did.” Louis couldn't help but notice how warm Harry's breath was on his cheek.

“This is… This is amazing!” he cried. “It’s like I found the missing puzzle piece to my childhood. I can’t believe I found you again!” He could stay here in Harry's arms for the rest of his life and be completely content about everything.

“Do you know how long I’ve clung onto the name Louis Tomlinson? When Zayn told me about Niall and his friend Louis the bartender, I nearly lost my mind I was so happy. I couldn’t believe it could be you. And then you were there, in my home, and I knew it wasn’t a dream. You were there again, just like you were there for me so long ago.” Harry faltered in his speech but then said, “This sounds strange, but you’ve really affected me. At that time, no one had ever believed so much in me. My family thought I was too strange to amount to anything. But here you were, a complete stranger, and you had so much faith in me that you’re the reason I’m here today in this mansion doing what I love. I owe it all to you and those ten minutes of fate.” He smiled. “I-I guess I just wanted to make sure that I had impacted your life as much as you had influenced mine. You mean so much to me.”

“Harry,” Louis said softly, pulling back his arms from his chest to lay them on his shoulders. He looked him kindly in the eyes. “You gave me a purpose, too. You told little old kid me that life wasn’t about yourself; it was about others.” He scoffed and said, “Well, you’ve obviously been a lot more successful about your dream than I have, but the thought has always been with me. I’ve never given up on it. I just need to find someone I want to be with forever.”

“Then stay here with me.” The words sent shivers through Louis’ body.

“What?”

“Louis, I’ve cared for you so much and you mean so much to me. I don’t care if we’ve only really known each other for little more than a week. Come here and live in my mansion. Then you won’t have to worry about your flat anymore, and you’ll be around someone you care for too.”

Louis didn’t know what to say. “I… I…”

Harry shook his head and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, that was really abrasive of me. I didn’t mean for it to come all at once like that…”

“I’d love to.”

Harry shot up and looked Louis dead in the eyes. “Really?” he beamed. “Are you sure?”

“We complete each other’s dreams, don’t we? I can play piano for you on your next song, and we can record it together.”

Harry let out such a sigh of relief and breathed, “I think I love you, Louis.”

Louis laughed incredibly loud. “We’ll get there eventually, don’t worry about that!”

“ _Eh?_ No, that’s not what I meant! I-I didn’t mean it in _that_ way…!”

“I’m only joking, Styles! Now, we better start thinking up some ideas for a new song… This one has to be a smash hit and stay on the radio for weeks!”

Yeah. Things really  _did_ start to look up for him.

 

* * *

 

“So, mate, congrats on your engagement to Perrie! She’s really great for you, and I couldn’t be happier for you two.” Niall raised a glass to Zayn and hit it against his.

“Please, Ni, it was inevitable that we would get together. When are you going to pop the question for Gemma?”

“Ehh, I’ll get there when I get there.” The two were enjoying a nice Sunday chat over some drinks in the Emerald Leaf when suddenly Niall froze. “Zayn, do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“The song that’s playing in the background.” He took a swig of his beer before choking on it. “That’s it!” he screeched. “That’s their song! It’s Louis’ and Harry’s!”

“What? You’re kidding!”

“No, I’m not! Oi, Nick! Turn up the radio!”

The music blasted through the pub, and Niall let out a loud cackle. “This is the new one, too! Haven’t heard this one yet! Man, it’s killer though, almost as good as their first one.”

Zayn nodded in agreement. “You can’t beat that classic. It’s impossible.”

“Yeah, but this one’s really good. Louis told me it’s all about how they felt when they got married.”

“It’s got a nice beat to it.”

“Listen to the lyrics, though! They’re so meaningful!”

And throughout the pub, the intertwined voices of Louis and Harry rang out, “I was lost without you by my side, but with you we sang our own Hallelujah.”


End file.
